


Mirror Mirror

by Swanny_Sinner (Swanny_Writer)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bathroom Sex, Bottom Wen Jun Hui | Jun, Established Relationship, Idol-Verse, M/M, Mirror Play (sort of), Sexual Content, The Author Regrets Everything, Top Jeon Wonwoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 07:09:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17075723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swanny_Writer/pseuds/Swanny_Sinner
Summary: Curious Cat Anon Asks: "Wonu getting turned on by watching Jun dancing during perf team practice. Jun realizes this and starts to make seductive faces and exaggerated moves every time they make eye contact through the mirror. By the time the song ends, Wonu grabs his kitten and they leave."





	Mirror Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, once again, beautiful people! The holidays are approaching! I hope everyone's excited (let's just take a break from pledis drama and actually focus on good things, like SVT's upcoming MV and Jun's solo!)
> 
> Anyway, i usually have no idea what's going on when i attempt smut, but this one was really difficult, for whatever reason. SO, if it does turn out to be as horrible as I fear, pls tell me so i can delete it. my life has enough shame and embarrassment without the internet making it worse LOL. 
> 
> The fic picks up right after the prompt leaves off.
> 
> I hope you can find entertainment with it, nonetheless...
> 
> -

Wonwoo slams Junhui against the bathroom wall, taking advantage of his shock to grab his wrists and pin them above his head. Their mouths collide in a mess of teeth and tongue. He tugs on the fat bottom lip, nibbling on the soft flesh to hear Junhui whine, before pressing their lips together again, licking into his mouth to tangle their tongues together. Unable to touch him, Junhui resorts to hitch one leg around the rapper's waist to pull him closer and rut against his thigh. Satisfied little mewls spill out of red lips, and Wonwoo drinks them all down. He groans when his cock brushes against Junhui’s leg, sending an electric shock through his body.

Wonwoo releases his wrists in favor of reaching out to grope at the meat of Junhui’s thigh wrapped around his side, skimming along the muscles to smack his ass. Junhui jolts from the hit, but moans nonetheless, hips stuttering in their rhythm momentarily. Wonwoo lets his boyfriend catch his breath, moving down to pepper kisses along his jaw and throat. He jerks the thin material of his shirt aside to expose the golden skin, Wonwoo’s personal canvas to paint and mark up, soon to be littered in reds and purples.

“Wonwoo…” Junhui gasps, reflexively arching into the touch when Wonwoo bites down on the juncture between neck and shoulder. A darling little whimper slips past plush lips, and Wonwoo smirks, licking over the teeth indents marring the smooth skin.

“You're such a bad kitten,” he mutters lowly at him, biting into his neck and grinding against him at the same time, keeping the thigh hitched around his waist to squeeze at will. He relishes in the whimper the dancer lets out. “Is that what you do in all your unit practices? Or was that just for me?”

“Ah!” Junhui curls into him, fingers fisting the fabric of the other's shirt. “I don't-I've never done it before.” He gulps down air, whimpering at the bites, but inclining his head to give Wonwoo more room to work with. “Wanted you to look at me more.”

“Is it that so?” With that confession in mind, Wonwoo supposes it makes sense. It's not in Junhui's shy nature to put on a show like that, but it would be suiting for his playful side to try and mess with Wonwoo.  _What a brat._ Grinning against his pulse point, Wonwoo muses aloud, “Who knew my pretty little kitten could be such a tease, hm?”

“I’m not…” Junhui starts, voice petulant. If he weren’t so busy trying to seek more friction against his own hard-on, he’d be pouting. “I’m not a tease.”

“No?” Wonwoo laughs, amused and endeared at the blush crossing over his boyfriend’s cheeks even as he’s desperately rutting up against him, little pants leaving his mouth.

The dancer shakes his head, face burrowing into Wonwoo’s neck. “No,” Junhui insists. “I’m a good kitten.”

Wonwoo runs his hands up the back of the drenched shirt, all the way to his shoulder blades, loving how hot and smooth the skin feels under his fingertips. He places his mouth by Junhui’s ear, voice almost a growl. “Good kittens don’t try to make their boyfriend so painfully hard during practice.”

Junhui whines at that, clutching him tighter, hips speeding up. “But I want you,” he whispers, so soft and _needy._ “Want you so bad, Wonwon…”

“Fuck.” Wonwoo is half convinced Junhui’s part incubus or something, because there’s no other explanation for how fast he nearly shoots his load from a mere whine, regardless of how desperate it sounds. He cups the back of Junhui’s head and pulls him in for a deep kiss, enough to leave the dancer dazed and starry eyed. Chuckling at the expression, he taps him lightly under the chin. “Cute.”

Wonwoo guides him toward the counter and spins him around. Junhui’s barely braced his hands on the surface that Wonwoo yanks his skintight joggers down his legs, along with his underwear. Junhui hisses as the cold air hits his exposed lower half, but quiets down the second he feels the rapper’s warmth behind him, gentle hands stroking over the small of his back and around his waist.

Lightly, Wonwoo nudges at his inner foot, motioning for him widen his stance. Junhui complies easily enough, a shiver of anticipation washing over him. But when all Wonwoo does is stare and feel him up, he huffs petulantly and kicks him.

“Hey.” Wonwoo spanks him, chuckling at the pout he receives. “Stay still.”

Junhui lifts his head to retort, but it breaks off into a choked off moan when Wonwoo grabs his cheeks and pulls them apart, exposing his hole. He plays with him for a bit, rubbing his dry finger along the crack, only letting the tip breach the tight ring of muscles for a second, before pulling away. Junhui keeps on whining, but Wonwoo ignores it, wanting to draw this out as much as his throbbing dick can handle.

If he’d had to sit through a full hour of Junhui teasing him in front of the team, then the little brat can handle a bit of it now.

On a normal day, Junhui dances with grace and elegance, movements sharp yet sensual, fluid. It’s beautiful and sexy without being over the top. Today, Junhui had been purposely riling him up. Continuously meeting his gaze in the mirror every time he exaggerated the swirl of his hips. A gentle stroke across his stomach becoming slow torture as he gripped at the hem of the shirt to raise it up over his flat stomach, barely enough of a peek, before dropping it as if nothing happened. He grinned the entire time. Not the playful and adorable smile that usually gets him hugs and coos. No, the coy and alluring one that he flashes on stage, the one that makes Wonwoo think could have lured a great many men to their deaths.

And dead is how he wished he could have been throughout the session. Instead having to grit his teeth and curl himself up into the corner to hide the very blatant problem in his pants. When Soonyoung finally decided to call for a break, he’d moved faster than he's ever done in his entire life, grabbing Junhui by the wrist and yanking him down the hall toward the furthest bathroom in the entire building.

If he could endure that torturous hour, Junhui can handle a couple minutes of this.

“Wonwoo…” his voice cracks, desperation clinging to the very word. “Please!” His fingers twitch where they lay against the countertop, fighting the urge to touch himself. Instead, he pushes his ass back, trying to entice Wonwoo into doing more than tease his hole with the barest minimum pressure.

“Please what?” He keeps his voice level, hands moving to hitch the thin shirt up higher.

Junhui makes a noise in the back of his throat, prompting the rapper to glimpse up, meeting his gaze in the mirror above the sinks. Junhui is beet red, the tips of his ears almost glowing. He squeaks when he notices Wonwoo staring at him, averting his eyes to the counter.

“I can’t give you what you want unless you tell me, kitten.” He digs into his pocket for the packets of lube, briefly checking on Junhui in the mirror.

“I—I want…” Junhui breaks off in a tiny whine, eyes screwed shut in embarrassment. “Please, Wonwon, please f-fuck me.” As soon the words leave his mouth, he clasps his hands over his burning face.

Meanwhile, Wonwoo’s cock jumps against the restraint of his pants, heat curling in his belly. He never thought he’d ever hear Junhui say those words. But then again, he didn’t see a day his shy and sweet boyfriend would put on a show right in front of their band members and try to seduce him, either.

“Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth, tearing the packet open.

At the exclamation, Junhui perks up. He brings a leg up to rub against his neglected cock, hoping to relieve some of the pressure. But Wonwoo slaps his ass in warning, and he yelps.

“Don’t.”

“But—” He never finishes his retort, because Wonwoo inserts a long finger into his needy little hole. Whatever complain Junhui might have had evaporates into a sigh. The relief doesn’t last long, though, before he’s squirming, wanting more.

Wonwoo ignores the pleas, taking his time to stretch him out. He doesn’t want to hurt Junhui, even by accident. He clenches his jaw as he thrusts his finger in, savoring the tight heat clinging to him. He adds in the second one not long after, having to grab onto Junhui’s hip to keep him stationary as he scissors them inside of him.

“More,” he moans, eyes fluttering. “More, Wonwoo, please. Your fingers are— _Ah!”_ Well, looks like Wonwoo found his prostate. “So deep— _Ah!”_

No matter how many times he’s seen Junhui in bliss, it never gets old. He watches, mesmerized, as the pleasure washes over Junhui’s expression, pride swelling up at the thought that he’s the reason for it.

By the time he can easily fit three digits inside, Junhui’s a whiny mess, knuckles white from gripping the edge of the counter, ass pushing back to fuck himself against Wonwoo’s fingers.

“God, you’re so needy today, kitten,” Wonwoo pulls out, rubbing the pad of his finger against that bundle of nerves on his way out. Junhui shudders and moans, slumping over the surface. While Junhui gulps down much needed air, Wonwoo tears open another packet and lubes up, groaning in pleasure as his hand strokes along his length.

Hearing the sound, Junhui hiccups and looks over his shoulder, eyes hungry as he seizes up his boyfriend’s hard and engorged cock. He pouts, eyes flickering up to meet the rapper’s. “It's your fault for showing up to practice unannounced.”

Wonwoo laughs. “Oh, it's my fault, is it?”

“Yes, so you better take responsibility— _Ah!”_

The cockhead presses against the rim, slowly breaching the ring of muscles. Wonwoo grits his teeth at the tightness, already anticipating the delicious heat to surround him whole. “Don’t worry, kitten,” he breathes, pacing himself. “I’ll make sure you’re completely and thoroughly compensated.” He gradually pushes the rest in, both sighing in relief once he’s fully seated inside.

“Mm. Feels… so full.” Junhui drops to his elbows, breathing deeply.

Wonwoo grips onto his hips to stop himself from moving too soon, no matter how much he wants to ram into Junhui and fuck him hard and fast. At last, Junhui nods. Wonwoo doesn’t wait, pulling all the way to the tip and thrusting back in. Junhui’s gasps turn into high-pitched moans the harder Wonwoo drives into him. His pelvis smacks against the edge of the counter with the force every time, sure to leave bruises, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Yes… yes… yes… Wonwon…”

Wonwoo threads a hand through the hair at back of his head, petting him for a few seconds, then grips the strands. Junhui whines, but doesn’t tell him to stop. Wonwoo uses his grip to force his boyfriend to glance up, turning his head toward the mirror in front of them. He waits until Junhui blinks slowly, for his brain to catch up and think past the fog of delirious ecstasy.

Not slowing down the brutal pace, he leans over Junhui’s body to whisper into his ear. “Keep your eyes open, kitten. Look at yourself. Look how pretty you are, so desperate for my cock.”

Junhui moans, long and loud. His walls clench around Wonwoo’s girth so painfully hard, he grunts and digs his fingers deeper into the dancer’s hip. “Wonwon…”

“Mm.” Keeping eye contact through the mirror, he smirks and presses a kiss at the corner of Junhui’s eye, licking up the tear collected there. “Is this what you were thinking about when you put on your little show earlier?” He angles his next thrust to hit against Junhui’s prostate, and the boy keens.

“Watch yourself get what you wished for, Junnie,” he suggests, stroking along the flushed cheeks, thumbing at the errant tears escaping.

Whimpering, Junhui wants to look away, too embarrassed to see himself like this. But he can’t, not with the intense gaze Wonwoo focuses on him. The rapper observes the way his chest heaves, pleasure building in his veins, causing his toes to curl and his head to swim. Wonwoo’s cock brushes against his sweet spot every so often, and he moans, all needy and pretty.

“Won… Wonwoo…”

“Mm. Keep your eyes open,” he whispers, kissing his temple. The action is so tender and gentle, a complete contrast to the relentless pace of his thrusts, driving Junhui closer toward the edge with every second.

“Mirror mirror on the wall,” Wonwoo continues, dark eyes intent on their reflection, roaming over the curve of Junhui’s back, the flush of his skin, the red and swollen lips reciting his name with reverence and love. He nuzzles into Junhui’s neck, licking a strip up to the back of his ear. His hand lets go of his hair to slide under his shirt and twist a pebbled nipple.

Junhui cries out in pleasure, eyes shutting momentarily from all the stimuli thrown at him at once as he thrashes. Wonwoo shushes him sweetly, fingers continuing to tweak the hard buds as he kisses his nape. He times his next thrusts with his comment, eyes meeting Junhui’s glassy ones in the reflection.

“Mirror mirror on the wall,” Wonwoo smiles wide, cock slamming against his prostate. “Show me the naughtiest kitten of them all.”

Junhui shrieks, writhing under him, the long and high-pitched moan echoing around the empty bathroom, sounding so lewd as they accompany the sharp smack of skin and skin. And just like that, Junhui comes, watching himself get wrecked by his boyfriend, riding out the waves of pleasure.

Wonwoo murmurs praises into his ear, chasing after his own release, delighted in the noises Junhui makes for him. The dancer still spasms, his hole fluttering around him from the aftershock of his organism. He clutches at Wonwoo’s hand griping his hip, head nodding frantically.

“Wonwoo, please,” he gasps, pushing through the oversensitivity. His cheeks are bright red, plush lips parted, eyes glossy. He looks at Wonwoo in the mirror. And there’s so much _want_.

It’s all too much. Wonwoo barely has the time to pull out, before he’s painted Junhui’s ass and back with white streaks. His vision swims, lungs on fire as he tries to breathe through the intense orgasm. His whole body tingles, and it takes Junhui whining underneath him to get Wonwoo to move.

Still trying to regulate his breathing, the latter runs the tap and pulls out a handful of paper towels. He looks over at his boyfriend, chuckling quietly at the dancer laying slumped on the counter.

“Kitten?” he calls softly, flicking the excess water and brushing the wet towel over his face. “You doing okay?”

“Mm,” he nods, although his nose wrinkles at the cool sensation. “Yeah, but you pulled out,” he complains, wiggling his butt as if Wonwoo could misunderstand.

The rapper snorts, getting to work cleaning him up. “Do you really want to walk back to the dorms with cum rolling down your legs?”

“No… But can we call a taxi? I’m sore.”

Chucking the soiled towels in the trash, Wonwoo sighs as he shakes his head in feigned exasperation. He quickly wipes himself down, then helps Junhui back into his clothes. He gives him a light spank once the pants are back on. “You’re such a handful, troublesome kitten.”

Giggling into his neck, Junhui wiggles around and wraps his arms around Wonwoo’s waist. “But I’m _your_ handful and troublesome kitten.” He punctuates the statement with a loud and exaggerated _muah!_ as he presses the kiss to his cheek.

Wonwoo can’t help but laugh, hugging him closer. “Yeah, mine,” he murmurs into his hair, kissing the mole on his forehead.

“Mm.” Smiling until his eyes turn into little crescents, Junhui sways them back and forth, stopping when they’re both facing the mirror. He curls up and drops his head to Wonwoo’s shoulder, shyly meeting the other’s gaze in the reflection.

Wonwoo squeezes a little harder. “Love you, Junnie.”

“Love you, too, Wonwon.”

________________________

 

“Why the fuck can’t I go in?” Wonwoo waves a hand at the locked practice room door, getting the attention of the four members inside. There’s a piece of paper taped to the glass, with Soonyoung’s squiggles on it saying: JEON WONWOO IS NO LONGER ALLOWED INSIDE DURING PERFORMANCE UNIT PRACTICES.

In the corner of the paper, there’s a doodle, which he easily recognizes as Junhui’s. He thinks the cat sporting a lone tear is supposed to be the dancer, and the expressionless cat is himself.

From inside the room, the music is put on pause, then Soonyoung walks to the door, flicking his sweaty hair out of his eyes. He scowls, hands on his hips.

“This is punishment!”

“For what?”

“You two played hooky last time, and Junnie missed the second half of practice. Where did you even go?”

Inside, Junhui has successfully pulled the hood of his jacket over his head and tugged on the strings until his face disappears completely. Then he drops to his haunches and hugs his knees. Chan pats his head.

The memory sparks a jolt down his spine, but Wonwoo shakes it off, poker face intact. “Nowhere you need to know.”

Soonyoung regards him skeptically, eyes narrowed even more than usual. “Right…”

Behind him, something seems to occur to Minghao, as he stands up straighter, eyes darting between his unit member still curled up in a ball, and Wonwoo’s avoidant response. A look of utter disappointment crosses his face as he shakes his head. “Honestly? Well, that explains why he was limping yesterday,” he mutters, gesturing to the boy on the floor.

Soonyoung gasps, loudly, drowning out Junhui’s whine from within his hoodie cocoon. “So _that’s_ why?! Shameless. You are banned, Jeon Wonwoo. Banned!”

“Only during you guys’ practices, right?” he asks. “Or am I excused from general practice, too?”

Soonyoung gives him a look, but Wonwoo just shrugs, keeping his smirk to himself. “Alright, then. Have a good practice.”

 

 

 

Late into the night, Wonwoo holds a naked and quivering Junhui pressed to the practice room mirror. His breath fogs over the glass, forehead cushioned over an arm as Wonwoo pounds into him. Junhui’s voice echoes throughout the large room, pitching higher when Wonwoo leans over and mouths at his shoulder.

“We’re… we’re gonna get— _Ah!_ —in so much— _Oh, god_ —trouble,” Junhui pants, pleasure flooding his senses.

“The ban is only during Performance Unit practice, though. Besides.” Leaning forward, Wonwoo swings an arm over his chest, bringing Junhui up flushed against him.

They stare right at their reflections, both breathing hard, skin flushed, and pupils wide. While Junhui gasps at the sight, blushing even more, Wonwoo chuckles lowly by his ear, whispering, “I thought you liked seeing yourself in the mirror, Junnie. Seeing what you do to me.” He emphasizes his point with a sharp thrust, eliciting a moan from the boy in his arms. He kisses his temple. “So pretty, hm?”

“Wonwoo…” He tries to turn away and hide against his boyfriend’s shoulder, but the way Wonwoo holds him makes it near impossible.

Unperturbed, the rapper grinds his cock into him, making Junhui cry out when it brushes against his prostate. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

Junhui can only nod, voice lost somewhere along with his breath. He hears Wonwoo chuckling by his ear, the hand surrounding his torso shifting to tip his chin forward.

“Watch yourself come for me,” he says, thrusts picking up speed anew. It only takes a couple more, and then Junhui tips over the edge with a loud and long moan that sounds a lot like Wonwoo's name. The rapper follows soon after.

As they lay on the hard floor, catching their breath and coming down from the orgasm, Wonwoo stares at him through the mirror, holding his gaze as he strokes over his face. Naturally, Junhui curls into him, always clingy afterward.

A little delirious, Junhui giggles, asking, “Does the magic mirror still say I'm a bad kitten?”

Wonwoo chuckles, letting him burrow into his chest. “I don’t know, I guess we'll just have to keep asking.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading till the end. Remember to tell me if it's awful (no news means good news, though, so you don't need to say anything if it's bearable).
> 
> Also apologies in advance for the lame ending... I honestly didn't know how to make it STOP
> 
> For more random thoughts, please stop by my [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/Swanny_Writer) aka, the WonHui Nest 😆


End file.
